This is What a Thirsty Solopreneur Making Herself Irrelevant Looks Like
Proof that progress — and self-sabotage — are both as sneaky as they are repetitive
It’s the end of the first week of 2023 and I find myself stranded, with only my fears to confide in.
Really, I was nestled in blankets, watching Love is Blind, Brazil and scrolling YouTube. The same thing I’d been doing for the past 2 hours. Eyes eager to see what others are accomplishing. What my peers, my idols, and the people I wanted to become were doing with what seemed like such ease.
Learning how the “doers” think.
I thought by scrolling for long enough I would be able to motivate myself enough to finally start putting thoughts to action with my goal of becoming a YouTuber and creator — the one I’d been swallowing back for over the past 2 years.
In reality, I was still in my bed, becoming more paralysed by all of the things I believed I needed to do before I could be as successful, as popular, and as fulfilled as the people I’d been spying on from my little phone screen. The ones I’d become a green-eyed monster for.
I was resting. Resting on the fear of change. Fear that the new habits I’m trying to uphold are just going to fall by the wayside again when negative self-talk takes hold — as it always does.
That this time in 2024 I’ll just be the same old me I’m still not proud of.
The one thing no one tells you about giving up too quickly
After my first freelance contract ended in late 2019, I got used to the idea that no opportunity would be lasting. I began overworking myself, taking on more clients than I could handle to try and grow my portfolio and impress the next person to happen upon my LinkedIn profile.
I did love being able to bring value to those I worked with. I was passionate about making their goals my entire life mission. And therein laid the problem: I was making burnout my norm for the good of my future.
With all the enthusiasm in the world, one person can only handle so much. Exhaustion is still exhaustion.
Instead of scaling back my work when noticing I had bitten off more than I could chew, I allowed the remnants to stay lingering in my mouth long enough to become unappetizing.
So I just spat them out.
I just quit.
The one thing no one tells you is what you’ll eventually long for after doing this enough times.
You’ll never know your limits or earn your benchmarks if you keep stopping when you feel resistance. Even if that resistance feels unbearable at the time.
You might feel like you’re doing the best thing for yourself at the time by moving on to something new. But, trust me, it’s not always the case.
You’ll never see traction if you keep aborting your goals.
For me, doing this so many times has left me thirsty. Thirsty to drink from the same cups nourishing these glowing faces on my YouTube homepage. The ones living their lives, doing what they enjoy and being paid for it.
Thirsty to know my limits — and myself — well enough to be confident enough to become dewy, and put it out there for the world to see.
If I don’t figure this out soon, this thirst of mine will never be quenched.
I’ll keep on trying to hurdle benchmarks before I’m fully ready. And I’ll keep returning back down here in this waste, disintegrating just like the abandoned chair I’m on and finally give up trying altogether.
The broken record is oftentimes right
I know there’s something in me I can offer from the tsunami of ideas that kick me into gear at 5 am most mornings. I also know why I stop myself from taking them further than inked impressions in my notebook.
I am becoming irrelevant.
At least, that’s what I’ve started to believe.
I don’t put time into writing 90% of the stories I come up with because they won’t be relevant enough to people. I haven’t put storyboards and scripts to video ideas that speak to niche crowds of people because not enough of them will care.
As an aspiring YouTuber, I’ll eventually have to insert myself into the ‘attention economy’. Where my value is based on how many people I can get to spend their time consuming me.
Who will want to watch videos from someone who has been locked away with mental health issues and was on the brink of suicide for the past year?
Someone who has intentionally ignored what’s gone on in the world because she can’t hack it?
Someone only starting to make themselves available to friends — apart from those she sometimes speaks to online?
I may sound like a broken record, but oftentimes, they’re right.
It is all about mindset — and mine is still stuck in 2019’s survival mode.
By not even trying to put myself out there, I’m stopping anyone from having the opportunity to care — or the opportunity to judge. That’s why feeling a spot emerge on my face and hearing that the weather will make for terrible filming conditions have become excuses for delaying my progress.
And that self-sabotage is what I’ve learned to do time and time again, as it protects me from my real fear that sat beyond the fear of change:
The fear of judgement.
More specifically, the fear of failing, being judged for it and having others’ negative opinions of me last.
We owe it to ourselves
I know I’m only stopping myself because I believe I won’t be able to handle the negative comments and “dislikes” on my videos. That seeing them will just make me give up — as I’ve always done.
But then again, I might not. I might even thrive, and I’d be cheating myself out of seeing it through if I don’t take that chance.
No matter how irrelevant we may think we are, we belong to a world of over 7.8 billion others. We must resonate with some of them.
We owe it to those people to share what we believe is worth sharing.
We owe it to ourselves to take chances in life while we still can.